Threshold
by PenPatronus
Summary: COMPLETE "Well, damn," Negan said, grinning right at Maggie, "that dick-chomper had a lot of blood in his gourd." This is what happened right after Negan swung Lucille at the end of "Last Day on Earth." Shows the fate of every character, but features Rick and Daryl. Bromance, hurt/comfort, drama, tragedy. Written before season 7.
**Threshold**

PenPatronus

Negan wiped the red splatter off of his bottom lip. "Well, damn," he said, grinning right at Maggie, "that dick-chomper had a lot of blood in his gourd." Maggie swayed. Her eyes rolled back into her skull and she collapsed, unconscious, onto her side. Blood seeped through her left pant leg.

Negan studied each face in the line. "There it is," he hissed, and pointed the barbed-wire-bat at Aaron's nose. "There it is! That's what I want to see!" Aaron's eyes didn't leave the body even when Negan strode forward and held Lucille under his chin. "You know what I see on your face right now?" Negan asked. "Resignation. I love seeing resignation even more than terror. You get it, don't you, Sir? You get it." Lucille pinched Aaron's chin and he looked up. "Keys are in the ignition." Negan cocked his head at the vehicle behind him. "Turn it over for me, will you?"

Aaron glanced at Rick, and then he stood up on shaking knees. Lucille dropped in front of him like a guillotine when he stepped forward. "Walk over him," Negan ordered. "Walk over the body. Right over the head—what's left of it." Aaron obeyed. A skull fragment crunched under the back heel of his boot and what color remained in his face disappeared.

Negan pointed Lucille at Glenn. "Get your lady friend inside."

Glenn sprung to his feet with Jack-in-the-Box speed. Mute, determined, face a mask of fear, he scooped Maggie up into his arms. Sweat shook off of the tips of his hair and rained down on her white lips. Lucille shepherded him forward and Glenn splashed through the blossoming puddle of blood on his way into the RV.

Negan's attention shifted to Rosita. Unabashed tears transformed the dirt on her cheeks to mud. "You next, darling," he said, eyeing every inch of her. "Over the threshold, now." Rosita sobbed as she tiptoed over her friend's dead body.

"Rick Junior!" Negan shouted next. "The one with the front row seat. The man in the splash zone. On your feet, son."

Rivulets of warm blood cascaded down the left side of Carl's body. The teen rose slowly but smoothly. He willed his hands not to shake, forced his knees not to wobble. When he met Negan's gaze he didn't blink, didn't even breathe. All his effort was focused on holding his head high as he marched over the body, and into the RV.

Suddenly, Negan unsheathed his sidearm and pressed it to Sasha's forehead. She couldn't contain the squeak in her throat when cold metal burrowed into her skin. Although he was looking at Sasha, Negan was speaking to Abraham when he said, "You're a loaded spring. You've already imagined your hands around my throat. It's just a matter of time. Steam's gonna burst from your ears any second now." Negan gradually cocked his head to the side and aimed his stare at Abraham. "You go slow as molasses. You go into that RV nice and slow and if you do that, she'll follow. Capiche?"

Abraham's entire body vibrated with rage but, after a solid thirty seconds, he growled, "Capiche." He lifted his palms in surrender. He exhaled so much so fiercely that all of the air in front of him became visible and when he sauntered through it, it was like he was emerging from a fog machine.

Negan cocked his sidearm when Abraham tried to walk around the body instead of over it. "Over the threshold," he reminded him. "You're entering the new world. It deserves some ceremony."

Abraham lowered his chin to his chest. "Sorry, brother," he whispered. He stepped over the body, but only after closing his eyes. Sasha followed.

Three remained. Negan put the tip of Lucille almost between Rick's knees, knelt on his haunches in a catcher's stance, and sighed. "There are many reasons why I'm so damn good at what I do," Negan whispered to him. "One of those reasons is that I can read body language better than most men read words. I can read you like a damn book, Rick. It's plain as day that you care about all of these men and women but when your attention isn't on your son, it's on one of these two." Negan cocked his chin and Michonne, and then at Daryl. "Why is that?"

Rick's throat worked. His mouth opened, shut, and then opened again, but no words emerged. Nearly a minute passed before he said, in the voice of a man confronting Death himself, "They're my family, too."

Negan chuckled. "She your bitch? Or is he?"

Rick swallowed. "He's my brother."

Negan's eyes went to the body and then back again. "Was he?" he asked with pouted lips.

Sweat mixed with salt and stung Rick's eyes. "He was today."

Negan grinned a lion's grin. "The bitch can go," he announced. Michonne looked back and forth between Rick and Daryl before she, too, rose and entered the RV. Her face joined the others' peeking through the window.

Negan tapped the bat's knob against Rick's chest. "Here's what's going to happen next," he whispered. "We're going to let you go to the Hilltop. You're going to take that sick lady to their doctor, and then you're going to go back to Alexandria and tell your people what happened here tonight. Tell them that they work for me now. Tell them about how your actions got your friend killed. Tell them to get their shit together. And when I come knocking on your door in three days, Rick, you will open it for me with a smile on your face." Negan's smile widened another inch. He stood up, and gestured for Rick to do the same. "Get in the RV, Rick. Get in, and drive away."

Rick made eye contact with Daryl. He saw something unfamiliar there – something new. Something that resembled defeat. "I'll get in," he said, "after he does."

Blood dripped from Lucille's barbed wire and into Rick's lap. "I said I'd let the rest of you live," Negan growled, "but I didn't say I'd let you all leave."

Dwight sauntered up behind Daryl with the crossbow in one hand and a gun in the other. The blanket around Daryl's shoulders slid off, and he let it. "Get outta here, Rick," he croaked.

Blood coated half of Daryl's chest. Rick had realized that his friend was hurt, but it wasn't until now that he saw just how badly. The terror that had reduced incrementally as each person reached the relative safety of the RV came back in full force and wrapped cobra-tight around Rick's heart. "Two-thirds," he sputtered.

"What?"

"You asked for half. Let Daryl leave with us, and I'll give you two-thirds of what we have."

"Rick…" Daryl whispered. His elbow trembled from the effort of supporting his weight.

Dwight fumed at the prospect of losing his prey. "You promised me—"

"Three-quarters," Negan countered without acknowledging his subordinate. "75% of your shit, Rick."

Rick didn't even hesitate. "Deal."

Suddenly, Negan reached out and gripped Rick's throat tight. Gasps of concern echoed from the RV, and the other Saviors pointed their guns at it to silence the audience. "I know you're lying," Negan hissed at Rick. "You're not planning on giving me anything. I can see it in your eyes, somewhere beyond the shock of tonight. Rick, you've got three days to change that lie into a truth. Three days to decide how you're going to play this. I'll let you leave with your son, your bitch, and your brother, but only because I have faith that you'll change your mind. I'll see that resignation on your face soon, Rick. And if I don't…?" Negan yanked Rick forward so that their noses nearly touched. "I. Will. Murder. Them. ALL."

Rick pursed his lips together tight and nodded. "I hear you," he replied. "I understand."

Negan released his throat and gestured at Daryl. "Out," he barked.

Daryl only made it as far as one knee before he collapsed. He tried again, and this time he managed to brace one leg under himself before he fell forward on all fours. When Rick gave Negan a pleading look, the Savior rolled his eyes and nodded once. Rick immediately scrambled over the Daryl, pulled the other man's arm across his shoulders, and helped him slowly stand up. Daryl swayed, turned a shade paler, and muttered, "I'd puke on you if there was anything in my stomach…"

"Hang on," Rick soothed. "We'll get you fixed up at Hilltop." He started towards the RV but Negan thrust Lucille forward like a sword and stopped both men in their tracks.

"You're starting a new chapter, Rick," Negan said, his voice almost singsong. "You've been punished, now cross the threshold into your new life."

Rick looked at Daryl. White fog hovered between them. "I'll lift you," he grunted.

Daryl began to speak but decided to save his energy. He tried his best to lift his feet as they walked over the body, but his toes dragged the mullet halfway to the RV.

Rick dragged Daryl by the armpits backwards through the RV. When his butt hit the far wall, he collapsed onto the floor with the bowman cradled in his lap. Glenn sat on the cushioned bench with Maggie in his arms while the others crouched in the narrow hallway or sat on the other chairs. While Aaron drove the RV away, the Saviors' whistles followed them into the night.

"My fault…" Daryl muttered, dazed. He went limp in Rick's arms with his cheek against his friend's chest. "If I hadn't…run off…"

"Don't start that," Rick ordered. He wiped Daryl's soaked bangs off of his sweaty face. "We don't have time for that, Daryl."

Michonne knelt at Daryl's feet with half a bottle of water. He shooed it away with a weak wave of his hand. "Maggie," he whispered, "give it to Maggie."

"She's unconscious," Glenn reported. "Aaron, drive faster!" he shouted. He ran his fingers through his wife's hair without even noticing that it was shorter.

Carl handed the RV's first aid kit to Michonne. "Dad, he's hurt bad," Carl gasped when Michonne peeled back the dirty bandage under Daryl's shirt.

"Rick, what are we going to do?" Glenn sputtered.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" Carl wondered.

Daryl patted Rick's arm where it wrapped tight around his waist. "You're shaking, man," he whispered.

"Rick, you're hurting him," Michonne warned.

Rick willed his limbs to stop trembling. Panic nipped at his heels like a feral dog. In the darkness of every blink he saw Lucille crashing into Eugene's skull. "What do we do now?" he whispered to everybody, and nobody. "What do we do?"

"Where's my bike…?" Daryl slurred. "Carol…?" His eyes slid shut.

"Daryl?" Rick patted his cheek. No response. The nipping panic latched onto Rick in its full strength. "Drive faster, Aaron!"

 **The End**

(Check out my profile for my WIP "Walking Dead" novel, "The Sisyphus Exodus"!)


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